


A Bird in a Cage

by Emriel



Series: Taken [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dark, Disturbing Themes, M/M, Mild Gore, Possessive Behavior, Prisoner of War, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-06 15:46:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14060205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emriel/pseuds/Emriel
Summary: Upon learning the truth of the many lies his life was built on, Harry Potter writes a letter of surrender. He falls into the dark lord's care and becomes a toy. He breaks little by little.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I changed the title because the original theme of the story got lost as I wrote the second chapter. This one feels more apt :D. And... this story is probably one one of the more squicky pieces I've tried writing because even I felt like cringing in the midst of completing it but it was a good way to flex my fingers. Proof checking the next few days so some things might change here and there.
> 
> 'Thoughts'  
> " _Parseltongue_ "  
> "Speech"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the title because the original theme of the story got lost as I wrote the second chapter. This one feels more apt :D. And... this story is probably one one of the more squicky pieces I've tried writing because even I felt like cringing in the midst of completing it but it was a good way to flex my fingers.
> 
> 'Thoughts'  
> " _Parseltongue_ "  
> "Speech"

It was midnight so there should be less people moving around. He still took the precaution and wore the invisibility cloak.

It was never explicitly mentioned, but Harry always knew Albus Dumbledore raised him like a lamb to slaughter. If he really had the power that the dark lord knew not, then why wasn’t he trained to the best of his abilities? Why was he raised away from his heritage, away from magic? If he was destined to be the _equal_ that Voldemort had, shouldn’t he have been more magically powerful, or at the very least, more protected than with just a blood ward that meant to keep those who wanted to harm him…

And what load of good did that do him? Remembering his muggle family left a sour taste in his mouth.

Some part of him knew it was dangerous to be out in the castle with the many enemies that it held. The whole of Slytherin all but pledged themselves to the new rule, and there were many students who were also believers of the Dark Lord in different houses.

He knew some of them just wanted to protect their hides while some wanted to be in a better position should the Dark Lord actually win – and at that very moment he had as good as won the war.

Some of them were dark to begin with and with a dark family, they were expected to do the same. Voldemort had his death eaters keeping tight watch of Hogwarts should the _undesirable_ No.1 appear as well.

Common sense seemed to kick in and he hastily whispered a Muffliato and a dillusionment spell on him, plus another repelling charm.

It should keep people unaware.

His mouth turned up at the more obvious changes that happened ever since he left. The banners have all changed and pureblood propaganda was plastered in boards. The rest of Hogwarts remained unchainged, and as he walked, he felt a sense of calm. The idea that they would attempt to take back the only home he'd ever considered was satisfying.

It felt as if he never truly left, seeing the same suits of armor, the paintings, the high arched windows, the long hallways. Then he heard footsteps.

Moments later, he saw Severus Snape stalking the hallways and his blood boiled at the urge to curse the man. This was the man who betrayed them all. That he could be the headmaster was a travesty.

Behind him, two people followed. They were near enough that the conversation could be overheard, “We must find him soon. How difficult is it to find one brat? Our lord is incensed. I propose we increase the patrols and enlist the help of the students.”

“Isn’t it a good idea, Severus? My brother and I believe it could believe it is a worthwhile punishment.”

“Enough. We are not here to punish students but teach them.”

“How soft. Perhaps your time in Dumbledore’s care has mellowed you down. I shall report this to the dark lord.”

"Do as you wish. I have given you enough warning of what happens if you waste his time."

"Can't even take a joke now, can you?"

The woman laughed and the man beside her did the same.

He was frozen in place as his wand itched to do something but he managed to calm himself down, and move past them.

* * *

What stared back at him was the Headmaster’s quarters. Waiting for the moment, he crossed the threshold and whispered the passwords just trying out his luck.

It opened.

He looked behind him and saw no one. He hastily went inside.

Pretty soon, he found himself in a familiar place, Albus Dumbledore’s old office. Not all his trinkets remained. There was a banner of the dark mark, and a vial of potions. Many of the portraits were sleeping. Behind the massive desk, he uncovered a portrait of Albus Dumbledore.

Harry cast a small privacy charm, one that might help against eavesdroppers but he wasn’t sure if they were effective against the other portraits. It should do. Harry removed the cloak so a shimmer of him appeared.

“Is it really you, Headmaster?”

The portrait seemed to have come to life and intelligent eyes focused on him.

“Harry, my dear boy… what brings you here?”

Harry then hastily recounted the story. He finished it by saying, “I don’t know if I can do it. He’s just too strong… we managed so far, but I don’t know how long we can survive like this. Tomorrow, we plan to take Hogwarts back. I saw Snape too, just now and it’s so bloody frustrating to know he’s there, and I can’t do anything yet. I hate him. I really hate him.”

“Things happen for a reason. It may seem that way but I am sure he has his reasons. He still has the interests of the students in mind.”

“You still trust him, after killing you? After leading the death eaters to attack Hogwarts?”

“You misunderstand him, my dear boy. It matters not to me in the grand scheme of-"

"He almost killed another friend," Harry cut through.

"I was already dying from the curse. You are simply to angry to listen to reason, Harry. Whatever I say will not exonerate his crimes.” Albus insisted.

“Right, and I’m just supposed to forgive him?” Harry sighed, and counted in his head. Dumbledore seemed to be in the process of giving him a reply but he was already tired of hearing his explanations. “I came here for a different reason, Professor. You see, I’ve always wondered about the connection I have with _him_.”

Harry spat out the word him, and wished he could simply say his name but it had a taboo. “I want to know if there is any other reason aside from the prophecy – that he and I are connected. You told me… that I had some of his powers. I can talk to snakes… our minds are linked… and there was even a moment in time that I was in the body of his snake. I could always pinpoint where a part of his soul is… because my scar would hurt... I always wondered, professor..” He took a lungful of air and with a burst of courage, he asked the question that’s been nagging his mind.

“…am I a horcrux too?”

The portrait, said “My dear boy–”

“Just answer the question.”

Harry had no patience, and maybe it was because Albus Dumbledore was a mere portrait that he answered him when the real him would not, or maybe it was because Harry’s magic curled around the frame in a moment of unconscious compulsive magic.

“Yes. I believe, you are… in a way, an unintended horcrux…”

At this, Harry felt the entire world stop. It was as if his heart too big for its cage and it was only because he feared that the portraits would wake that he didn’t move. He couldn’t move. He was simply rooted as the portrait explained his reasons.

It was something he should have known from the start, but Albus still hid it from him. What right did he have to control his life the way he did?

Harry could feel that all else went muted and the voice of the headmaster was grating in his ears.

“You have a part of his soul living in you. It is perhaps my greatest sin as of yet, to have hidden it from you. It is cruel, but who was I to rob you of a childhood? I merely suspected, but I was never sure. It was only when you had exhibited the signs in your fifth year, signs that your connection was perhaps deeper than what I had thought and perhaps during your second year, when you have revealed to all the world your skill of Parseltongue. I was never sure.”

Albus looked extremely apologetic but he was merely a painting, and even Harry knew that no matter how life-like this painting was, he was not Albus so he couldn’t, shouldn’t get angry. He still couldn’t help the amount of rage that exploded within him. He was teetering in the edge of cursing the frame so it could just stop spouting bullshit.

“You want me to kill myself then? You wanted me dead from the start? Maybe that’s why you had me grow up with the Dursleys. You knew they never loved me, and maybe you were hoping they would do the dirty deed you could never do yourself.”

“Harry, it takes great skill to fool your friends so you must fool your enemies. I never intended you any harm. In my own way, I wished that this matter would resolve itself without resulting in your death. That is why, I have gifted you the path to claim the hallows. My other self and I have pondered endlessly over other possibilities, but saw no other alternative. I wished to give you a chance at life, for even if you are his Horcrux, you are still your own person.”

“That still doesn’t make it right,” Harry said in small voice, blinking back the beginning of tears, ones he hadn’t known were there and he wiped it from his face angrily. His knees were weak so he leaned against the table, and clutched at his heart, willing it to calm down.

“I agree. But in this world, sometimes the right and wrong is a thin line you must tread. I merely wanted you to live and perhaps it was a choice that causes you suffering now. Had I chosen to train you, mold you into a weapon, you would have lost a life of freedom, but perhaps you would not feel as betrayed. We cannot go back and change the past. You have proven to us that you are different, honorable, pure and kind. You are too kind and I know my reasons will never be acceptable to you, but I did all this for the greater good. You have done well in this journey and I will not fault you if you wish to stop. However, dear boy, if there is great evil, there is only but one way to succeed and that is to keep trying, fighting – if that is what you truly desire. This is a choice between what is right and what is easy, Harry.”

For Lord Voldemort to die, Harry must die with him.

“I should just destroy you. You never told me the truth. You lied to me! How can I even trust you after this?”

Harry felt his own body weighing on him. How could he be so unaware that he’d been hosting the parasite of a soul. He felt disgusted with himself. He wanted someone to blame and the most convenient person was the dead headmaster or Voldemort himself.

He thought of ways to kill himself, but killing himself so soon seemed pointless.

The room seemed to be spinning as the effects of the alcohol kicked in, and what should have been a risky idea made perfect sense to Harry’s addled mind. The headmaster seemed to be mouthing words to him, but Harry could focus on none of it.

Harry hastily left the room, covering himself with the cloak and retracing his steps back to the Room of Requirement.

* * *

Harry knew he should think things through but he felt desperate. Everyone was asleep by the time he got back, and with no one to stop him, he formed a hasty plan. One that involved drinking poison, and one that was a simple letter addressed to the dark lord.

The potion was not terribly difficult to acquire on short notice. He would drink it, and suffer a painless death. That was the easiest way to die. On the other hand, the letter itself took some time to draft. Once done, he snuck towards the Owlery and instructed the bird to take his letter.

* * *

_Hi Tom,_

_I hate you. I hate what you stand for. I hate that you’ve ruined my life. I know you hate me as well. Well, this is your chance. I am about to die. You have the option of stopping me, or letting me kill myself._

_I always wondered why I could talk to snakes. Sometimes I have visions where I am you. I see what you see. I feel what you feel. I once dreamt I was Nagini. This is how I prevented Arthur Weasley’s death. I thought it was because of the prophecy and the cursed scar you left me. It forged a connection between the two of us. You’ve used it many times in the past to send me visions that led to my godfather’s death. I’ve learnt to shut you out, but I still see glimpses. I see your memories._

_As you know I’ve begun to hunt pieces of your soul and I succeeded in destroying most of them. It is only after destroying them that I began to wonder._

_I have enough reason to believe I contain a piece of you inside me. I am just like Nagini, a living, breathing piece of your soul. I find it extremely disturbing… and disgusting that I am. The only way to remove the horcrux is by killing myself so I have ensured my death._

_If you do not agree to my terms, I will die and you will lose one more tether to this reality. I have eliminated all the others, except you, myself and Nagini. From what I’ve learned, you cannot create any more than what you have and it would be suicide to do so._

_I want you to cease all hostilities for a month. Allow all those who wish to leave Britain unharmed while those who want to remain under your rule can stay here. I want you to spare my friends. These include the Weasley family, Remus Lupin, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood and Hagrid. I also don’t want any of your followers harming them. If you must kill me, give me a swift death._

_In return, I’ll surrender myself._

_Please stop the pointless bloodshed._

_If I do not receive your reply, I will be dead by sunrise._

_\- Harry Potter_

* * *

He watched as the owl disappeared. It was a matter of waiting now.

Sunrise was in two hours. That was enough time to drink his fill. He was cursing himself for being so impulsive but he could not call back the letter. He wished Voldemort would accept his terms. Surely he would care about his own soul. Surely he would not let him die?

But even if he did, it was still part of the war won, because he had essentially succeeded in killing a part of Voldemort as well,

Half an hour later, his scar bled.

* * *

While he was sitting inside the Room of Requirement, Harry received the reply. He stood up to catch the letter from a black raven who was glaring at him from the couch.

Perhaps it was in his drunken state that he forgot to check it for spells. Upon touching the letter, he saw black lines crawl from the tips of his fingertips to his wrist. It formed what could only be a snake that ate its own tail, an Ouroboros.

When it finally settled, Harry felt drained and collapsed to the floor in a thud. That was when Hermione woke up. She rubbed sleep out of her eyes and asked, “Harry, what happened?”

Upon noticing the letter he was holding, Harry sighed at her. “Don’t touch it, it’s cursed.”

Harry pushed himself up and sat on the sofa while Hermione gently disentangled herself from Ron’s embrace and laid his head on one pillow.

There was nothing on the page for a while, but words began to appear one by one. They read the letter together and with each sentence, Hermione grew more and more upset. “What have you done, Harry?”

* * *

_You are as rash as Severus tells me._

_The mark will remain until I wish it to disappear._

_Do not do anything that will displease me._

_I already know where you are._

_It would be wise for you not to run away._

_Perhaps I might even consider your request._

_Lord Voldemort can be merciful to those who deserve it._

_I am coming for you_

* * *

 Harry should have known Voldemort would never play fair.

“I wrote him a letter.”

“You what? What kind of letter?”

Harry told Hermione of the bargain, his life for the life of his friends. He thought long and hard if she should know about him being a _horcrux_ but he didn’t want to risk her safety by having her know.

“Merlin, Harry! You ruined the only chance we had!”

Harry laughed a little at this, “Chance? What chance? Dumbledore set us up to fail at the very start. I thought… I thought maybe this was the only other chance we had. I thought that by bargaining my life, he would spare you.”

Harry looked nervously at the door, and then at Hermione.

“You should escape. There’s no telling how soon they’ll be here. Go back to Hog’s Head and runaway with the rest of them. I’ll try my best to hold him off.”

“You look ready to faint, Harry… you make me worry so much. I can’t leave you like this, Harry. This is so unfair.” Hermione looked so troubled and Harry held her hands together.

“Hermione, I want you to know I always treasured the friendship you and Ron gave me. Hogwarts wouldn’t have been fun without you–”

“Don’t say that as if you’re dying. I’m not about to let you die. There has to be a way out of this mess. Harry, we’ll figure a way out. Just like how we always do, okay?” Hermione looked almost ready to cry.

She released a frustrated noise and Harry felt as if she was on the verge of saying expletives. Harry tried to etch her face into his memory, wondering if he would ever see her again. He began looking at the others in the room. “You’re coming with us, Harry. There’s no way we’re leaving you.”

She began tugging at his hands, but Harry had no energy to move, and he knew that he screwed up royally this time.

Harry felt a sudden panic when he felt his scar hurt in a distinct way that could only mean one thing.

“No... Hermione… he’s already here in the castle. You have to go. Go. Now! Wake up Ron and the others. Leave. Please Hermione. I’m the only one he wants. There’s no point in wasting any more time here. He has a tracker on me. You can’t take me with you.” Harry implored.

“How can you be so selfish?”

Harry felt a stab at his heart. Yes he was selfish, but couldn’t she see he was doing it for them as well?

“You should have asked me, or Ron. We’ve been through this together. Since we were kids we’ve had your back. Don’t you think you should have told us before doing something incredibly stupid?”

“I’m sorry I was hasty, I just thought to end this all... You should just go. I don’t want you to die and I want you gone before they come inside. I’m so bad at occlumency and I’m sure all of you will be discovered before long so can you please do me a favor and warn them? Leave Britain. Don’t come back.”

Harry looked at Hermione’s face who was twisted in concern and anger, “If you won’t do it, then I’ll have to force you.”

“You won’t dare–”

Harry pulled his wand out, and pointed at Hermione, “Imperio.”

Hermione’s eyes glazed

“Leave, wake up the others and take them with you. Stay safe.”

Hermione seemed as if she was trying to fight it, but couldn’t.

Harry watched her at the corner of his eyes and waited. Ariana’s portrait appeared, and soon, she began waking up everyone mechanically. “ _The dark lord is coming. We have to leave now_ ” seemed to do the trick.

Luna, Neville, Collin, Ginny… one by one they all looked at him, asking for an explanation, but he had none to give except, “I bargained my life for yours. I’m sorry.”

Moments later, the door was shaking from an outside force.

He tapped his fingers impatiently.

He watched the door, and wondered if it was real, whatever that was happening right at that moment. There was a thrill to tempting danger.

There was a thrill in knowing that pretty soon, he would find out whether or not there was an after-life. Would he turn into a ghost that haunted the castle? Would he be spared? His last living moments seem to flash by and he thought that perhaps Hermione was right, he was an idiot.

He should have thought this through instead of going for the very first idea that sprung in his head.

It didn’t take long before the door broke down.

There was a certain feel to his magic that always gave him chills. It was a dark and toxic sludge that always seemed repulsive but at the same time familiar. His scar began to burn further and he had to suppress a groan, already weak from the poison and whatever curse the tracker had.

It was no surprise when he saw it was Voldemort himself who stepped in.

He walked barefoot, his footsteps silent as he seemed to glide across the floor with his black robes. His distinctly serpentine face was twisted into a delighted smile. His red eyes reflected a sort of hunger that Harry could not understand and he wanted to avert his eyes.

He was followed by Bellatrix Lestrange, Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy and several others who wore masks.

Harry sat on the chair, breathing in, and breathing out. He sat there with his wand, and alone.

He was trying to stay calm despite the strain.

It felt surreal when Voldemort conjured a chair wandlessly and sat before him.

“ _You will converse with me in a language only we know._ ”

Harry looked at his red eyes and responded, “ _Fine.”_

_“Let me inside your mind. I want to know what made you arrive to this conclusion.”_

Harry wanted to protest, but at that point, he knew he was at the mercy of Voldemort.

He braved himself and looked at _Tom Riddle_ in the eye. The pain in his scar was all the warning he had until he felt the full brunt of the intrusion.

“ _Don’t bother fighting me, it will only make things harder for you, Harry.”_

A flash of all the small suspicious incidents of his life was slowly examined, and reexamined. He was all but ready to collapse when his most recent memory was brought to light.

When he came to, Harry found himself collapsing forward, and if it was not for Voldemort’s magic which held him suspended in air – he would have fallen face forward to what could have been, the dark lord’s lap.

There were droplets of blood falling down his face. Harry blearily recognized it came from his scar.

“ _There is a spell to confirm the truth of your claim.”_

The dark lord cast it silently and his red eyes took in an unearthly glow. The sudden delighted laugh made Harry shiver in abject horror. Voldemort stood up, and tilted his head, and his touch had Harry screaming.

“ _You truly are, my Horcrux. It angers me greatly that Albus Dumbledore raised you, my soul, in such a manner. Had you not sent that letter, I would not have known. Don’t worry, Harry. I’ll take care of you…”_

_“What of my friends?”_

_“You think you are in any position to demand, when I have you at my mercy?”_

_“Then you don’t care if I die?”_ Harry hissed loudly. At this, he felt sick satisfaction that the death eaters stiffened.

“ _I do, but you will not die tonight, my little Horcrux. If you do not give me the name of the poison you took, then all that must be done is to keep your body suspended until we have found a cure. You should have killed yourself when you had the chance.”_

Voldemort laughed, and turned his head towards his followers.

“Call for a raid on Hog’s Head. Kill everyone who fights back.”

Bellatrix cackled, “It will be done, my Lord.”

“What poison did you take?”

Harry kept his mouth shut, and the hold of Voldemort’s magic relaxed, and Harry fell on the chair like a ragdoll, utterly exhausted from the rape of his mind.

“Severus, the draught.”

“ _I'll tell you. don’t kill them... please don’t kill them.”_

“ _Begging already?_ _What else can you tell me that I do not already know? Tell me my precious horcrux. What else can you offer Lord Voldemort?”_

Harry felt the entire room was spinning, and blood was coming out of his nose and mouth. He was dying. He heard laughter then nothing.

* * *

It was bright. Underneath a dome of glass, light was coming through and pricking past his eyelids. He blinked back the tears and groaned at the sudden pain in his limbs. There were bars - large gleaming dark ebony bars that spanned twice his height and it was all around him, forming a circle, trapping him.

He was in a cage. He was trapped inside a large bird cage.

Only there were no doors, no keys. No way to escape his prison.

Harry opened his mouth, but could not utter a word. It felt as if someone had wrapped a hand around his throat and he choked on the words he wanted to say. Harry poked through his mind for memories. Flashes of _Voldemort_ and a vague feeling of being woken up several times, blurrd faces, blood, screams... It was a blur.

He remebered the letter.

He remembered his friends.

Harry felt his breath speeding up. Gasping. ' _Breathe'_

He attempted to calm down, counting in his head but it wasn't working.

The floor was padded, and he had but one blanket, to cover himself.

‘ _No... This is just a dream...'_

He tried to scream, but no sound came out, and he wanted to scratch his throat, but the thought of even harming himself was painful, as if he was cursed, and molten heat traversed through his nerves, until he was shaking like a leaf.

As he lay there gasping on the floor, he realized the cage was floating in the garden. He was alone, and trapped. He was already tired and dizzy even if all he did was open his eyes and clench his fists. He could already feel his eyes closing on him.

Harry tried to ignore the sudden feeling of helplessness, and he tried force his uncooperative body to pull the thin blanket around his form, a small measure of modesty in the strange place he'd woken up in.

He knew he made a terrible mistake.

It was the beginning of a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've started the editing process so some parts of the story will change but most will remain the same. I'm half done with chapter 1 :D I will probably finish the editing process within the week or by Friday at most. * o * I will post a note once I've completed the revisions :D


	2. Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry begins to understand what it means to be the dark lord's prisoner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost done editing the chapter but I don't know if I'll be going over it... I feel tired. I hope to be done with this and an epilogue chapter by this weekend. It's almost too much of a struggle to write because there is almost no love from Voldemort to Harry and I almost feel like dropping it, if only it wasn't so intersting.
> 
> Many times people just write stories about them, where Harry is already mildly attracted to the Dark Lord or the Dark Lord is helplessly enamored with Harry. Most of my stories fall in the category where there is already an unexplainable attraction between the two of them. So, here, I take another approach.

To be trapped in a cage with barely no one to talk to and nothing to do filled him with boredom.

Harry felt as if he’d been stashed away and forgotten and the thought, more than anything filled him with horror. The thought that there was no escape in his prison made him anxious.

At first, he had to figure out how to move. His body was very weak that even attempting to sit up took most of his energy. When he finally got up, he began walking back and forth. It was four steps from one end of the cage to another. He paced.

He paced but nothing happened.

The silence was endless. He became hypersensitive to the small noises of the wind, and through observation, he found that there were a few animals living in the desolate garden. He could sometimes spy them if he looked long enough, but they hardly showed up.

And then he realized one other detail as he felt his face. His glasses were gone but he could perfectly see things. He could see a lot more. He felt as if he could find joy in having impecable eyesight, but it only made him all too aware of how desolate his surroundings were.

There were a few animals, sometimes, he would pick up sounds, like the shuffling of the grass, and the occasional hum or chirp of a bird. Beyond that, nothing.

He began hissing soft words to himself so he could deal with the silence, for even if he was safe and relatively unharmed, there was the threat of losing his mind.

The Ouroboros on his wrist meant the Dark Lord still wanted to keep it there to know his location. He had no idea what other uses it had, only that it seemed like a decorative reminder of his failure.

He wrapped the blanket around his person to form a robe and began to ponder about how big a mistake he actually committed. To his defense, he was drunk at that moment, and it seemed like a good idea. He should have done things more cautiously, instead of jumping head first into danger just like he usually did.

He meant to use the name of the poison as part of a bargain. That he was alive meant that they were able to find a cure in time. He knew Voldemort would have been incensed that he almost died with the stunt he pulled. Harry had no idea what kind of value Voldemort has for his horcruxes, only that he’d like to keep them alive, and safe.

Harry knew he was alive and safe. His eyes were starting to close.

 

 

 

He opened his eyes to the same daylight.

There was no hunger. No need to relieve himself. No thirst. Nothing.

He was simply existing, stationary and there was very little difference upon being asleep and being awake. He could not rest, and could not remember even dreaming. His hands went up to his scar and strangely, there was no pain, no emotion.

His company was the slow steady burn of his thoughts of what ifs. His mind, the devil's playground.

He thought of his friends, successfully escaping, and then leaving him to rot in the prison. He thought of his friends getting slaughtered one by one. What if the order wasn’t able to leave Hog’s Head in time? What if they got caught by the death eaters?

His conscience was guilty. It was eating at him, not knowing if they were safe.

He thought of freedom, if it was even possible to get out. He tried reaching out of the cage, and his hand could pass through, but his body wouldn’t. He tried calling out to his magic, for it to his bidding but he could not feel it respond to his desires.

" _Someone? Is there anyone... out there? Can anyone hear me? Anyone?"  
_

At this point, he had given up in pacing, and found himself on the ground, with his arms wrapped around his knees and slowly rocking himself back and forth. He began talking to himself, trying to recall certain things and memories. “ _Harry… Potter… I’m Harry Potter. Voldemort trapped me… inside this cage… in this garden… My name is Harry… I have friends, their names are Ron and Hermione… Hogwarts was my home… I used to play quidditch. It’s a sport that lets you ride a broom and you can fly with it. I love flying… I wish I can fly too. I want to get out.”_

The garden was vast, with flowers and trees stretching around him. The cage was at the center and there was a dome of glass that hung above. There was a circle of water close to the edge and a black abyss that guarded all sides which made him feel as if he was stuck in a place in the middle of nowhere.

" _Please let me out. Let me out. Let me out!"_

He stood up and banged against the cage, but all it did was hurt him. He sat on the floor and pressed his head against it.

Perhaps the room was designed in a way to deter him from ever escaping, not that he could without a wand, trapped in a cage that held no doors and a garden that had no visitors.

His throat hurt from trying to hiss out the words.

He tried to make sounds, like the tapping of his fingers on the floor, or the bars of his cage.

Harry tried not to lose hope and noticed after long moments of observation that the light varied as time passed by. There were times when the light was dimmer and when it was brighter. It was always bright, but perhaps it was a trick of the mind, and yet he decided to count it.

The thought of causing himself pain was almost unbearable, Harry had no doubt the Dark Lord took precautions to ensure the safety of his horcrux.

He could think of no other way to keep track of time, so despite collapsing on the floor afterwards, he bit his finger and wrote tiny lines around the edges of his cage.

He could not remember when was the last time he slept. It was all becoming one big blur for him, but he had the lines to tell him of the time. He imagined that it was a day for each line.

By the time he was on his 30th mark, everything changed. The entire room was plunged in darkness.

In the darkness, where he could not see, Harry clutched as his head, bumped into the bars, rolled on the floor, and attempted to scream. He began to see things that weren't there before. He thought he saw a snake, coming towards him, and he coaxed for it to come, “ _Pretty little snake… come to me… come to me and save me… keep me company._ ”

The white snake kept moving towards him but never reached him. And then behind it, there were rows of dried skin, tattered, bones, and whispers.

“ _What… what’s happening? Why are there… bones?”_

The whispers grew louder.

“Failure.”

“Freak.”

The snake was beside him now and it opened its mouth to bite him, to swallow his hand, his arm. He was being eaten alive, and Harry felt like running away, but he kept on hitting something hard. He was gasping at thought of not being able to feel his arms, his legs. He collapsed on the ground, breathing harshly. The snake was still eating him alive, and he thought he could feel blood, dripping out of him, the wet crunch of skin, of bones.

Harry felt the tears come. He scratched at the imaginary foe. Trying to keep away from him.

And then, there was sudden blinding light.

He was back in his cage in a garden.

His arms were bleeding from his scratch marks.

* * *

It did not take long to have a series of lines decorating the outer ring. He counted over a hundred lines. The darkness happened haphazardly. It always caught him unaware.

The hope inside of him festered.

And then one bird appeared, a small one with pretty red plumes. It managed to get inside the cage. Harry brushed aside his growing hair, as he watched it. He laid down, and wished it would come closer. He admired it as he lay on the cushioned floor, reaching out slowly.

He desperately wished it would not leave him alone.

And so the bird hopped on to his finger.

Harry was filled with joy.

“ _Why are you here, little bird? Are you trapped in this hell, just like me?_ ”

He watched the bird tilt its head inquisitively before flapping its wings. Then, it flew away to sit atop his cage, but soon took off far, away, not where he could see it again.

If he began crying. No one was there to hear it.

* * *

“ _I am Harry Potter. A hundred twenty-seven lines will soon turn to a hundred and twenty-eight. I wrote the lines with my blood. I bit my finger and I wrote them myself… but sometimes I can’t remember if I wrote it... only that I know I should have. I did them one by one… to count. I count. I count out loud... One two... Every time I can count. I’m still alone… I’m Harry. I haven’t tasted anything in so long… My name is Harry.  Am I... still alive? I think... I am... but nothing ever changes... Can someone? Hear... understand... I feel lonely. I feel tired... I think..."_

Harry twisted around and stared at his fingers that were freshly bitten. They healed after a little while, looking unblemished. But right now, it was bleeding a pretty red.

_"I wish to feel hunger... but I'm not hungry. I wonder what it feels like to eat food. It’s been so long. I miss eating treacle tarts, and drinking juice. I miss the taste of meat.”_

Harry bit the tip of his finger, wanting… He tried to ignore the sudden punishing heat the coursed through his body that accompanied it.

One thing lead to another.

He began biting through his wrists.

He gnawed into an upward motion until his wrists up to his arm was bloody mess. He spat out the pieces of skin he managed to bite through.

It wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t.

He felt so hollow.

He hadn’t realized it was so easy to bite through skin until he tried.

He lapped at the strong metallic taste of blood. He bit through as much as he could. He desperately wanted it all to end.

Through the haze, he thought he heard a voice, and laughter.

* * *

Just like that, Harry opened his eyes to see someone hovering next to him.

He felt terrible fear. He couldn’t begin to open his mouth. He was so unused to the presence of another that seeing one appear in the flesh was a shock. He thought that this one was an illusion, but a scary illusion at that.

His weak body attempted to move away, but he was lightheaded from the loss of blood.

It was only a few moments later that Harry realized he was naked. Harry swerved his eyes around to look for his blanket, but saw it was out of sight. He’ll just have to stay naked then. His arm was still bleeding but he could see it was partially mended.

Harry didn’t particularly want to see him. He knew it was because of this man that he suffered, and for Voldemort to see him looking so weak made something inside him shrivel in disgust. Like some forgotten part of him who used to be _Harry Potter_ was just waking up, and telling him to pretend he was still ok. He had to put up a brave façade, despite just having thoroughly lost his mind.

Voldemort stepped closer.

“ _Don’t come near me,”_ Harry snapped.

“ _Are you scared?”_

Harry didn’t deign the question an answer. Behind him, Harry could see two wizards wearing white robes and white masks. They bowed and left.

Voldemort was still pale, too pale and in the artificial sunlight, it made his skin glow. He could see tiny scales dotting his arms, and the sides of his face. His nose was still a barely there curve – nostrils as slits, and red hellfire eyes staring, with unwavering intensity.

Harry closed his eyes, and pretended that the shiver was because of the cold.

“You wanted my attention did you not? Why else would you harm yourself again?”

Voldemort knelt at his side and grabbed his injured arm.

Harry gasped, his eyes opening, and his body twitching in pain.

Voldemort inspected his arm as if he would a merchandise, before taking out a small glass jar from the inside of his robes.

“ _You truly are such a foolish child. I have gone to great lengths to keep you safe, and you still continue to finds ways to spit at my generosity.”_

Pale and long fingers were spreading a balm that began to knit the skin on his arms as a wave of magic began to remove the remnants of blood.

Harry tried to look elsewhere. He was still terribly disoriented from the blood loss. He busied himself with observing other details. The cage had its bars spread out and for once, he did not need to feel the stifling weight that surrounded him. He shivered.

“ _Generosity?”_

“ _Yes, generosity. I gifted you a garden that you could watch in your isolation. I could have kept you in a dark cell, with no light but I have given you this much. I have kept your body alive. Your mind is still your own. You have not been harmed or tortured. I left you alone… perhaps I left you far too long that your mind has begun to unravel despite all this, but it is generosity all the same. Now that we’ve established how badly you’ve behaved, you must apologize to me._ ”

Voldemort caressed his now healed arm, and Harry tried to fight the sudden rush of frustration, pulling away, but Voldemort’s grip was strong and the hand tightened around his wrist in warning.

_“And what will you do if I don’t?”_

“ _Then we’ll see how much more you can take. I only want one word. Shall I spell it out for you, my dear horcrux?”_

“ _There’s no need. I won’t say it_.”

“ _Alright. It matters not to me. You can prolong your torment. Lord Voldemort has an eternity to punish all your wrongs._ ”

Voldemort licked his lips, and his red eyes roved over his form.

“ _One would think that it would take longer for you to break. My poor little, Horcrux. To think a few months in isolation would render you mad. I wonder if this is all you’re made of?”_

Harry glared at the red eyes that were looking at him with amusement. He stubbornly kept his mouth shut.

“ _Speak to me, I know it is what you desire the most.”_

“ _I am. Not. Broken,”_ Harry hissed pointedly, anger and embarrassment causing his cheeks to color.

“ _One does not simply lie to me and not be punished.”_

With a gentle touch on his wrist and a serene smile, the Dark Lord broke the same arm that he just healed. The crack was all too loud in the silence of the garden.

Harry would have screamed if he could, but since he couldn’t, he could only gasp in pain. Voldemort held his other hand, and Harry’s green eyes widened waiting for the pain but none of it came. He struggled at the strong hold, and in the struggle, Voldemort straddled his prone form, until both his wrists were held on top of his head.

Harry could feel the tears coming, and Voldemort began to wipe them. Harry tried to move his arms but it was held in place by some strange magic. He felt weak and helpless. Every movement brought tears to his eyes.

“ _You are broken, Harry Potter. Now, for your punishment… I suppose… I will grant you a wish. For the past few months, I have given you the liberty of modesty. You have been kept clean from the filth of defecating or urinating. Now since you don’t seem to regret what you’ve done, I will let you deal with your hunger. You will then eat what is given to you, no matter what it is. I will no longer have magic clean up after you. At the end of every day, I will send house elves… You will be nothing more than an animal that I keep in a cage.”_

_Harry tried to keep himself from trembling but he couldn’t stop the tears from falling._

When he looked away, he felt the force of the Dark Lord’s magic. His magic soaked him to the bone and Harry felt the wordless command. _‘You do not look away from me._ ’

“ _I care little about your mind, or that of your body. It is only because I am a merciful lord that you have the ability to think at all. There are worse horrors that I could subject you to, but instead I have kept you safe. I intended to keep you asleep, perhaps even for all eternity… but you hardly earned that right. I have given you this garden as a place to rest, when you deserved to suffer. You have offered me your surrender but all I see are lies. When you wrote that letter and took in the poison you know no cure of, it was already unforgiveable... You keep testing my patience.”_

Harry remembered the letter he wrote, ages ago, and asked, _“What is the point of surrendering when I don’t even know if you’ve spared my friends?”_

Voldemort was pensive, and the same hands that broke his arm began reaching for his face. Harry winced at the sudden movement.

The Dark Lord parted his fringe, and a finger began to trace the scar. He expected pain, but there was only warmth.

Some part of Harry began to relax.

Unbidden.

“ _I told you I would consider it and I have.”_

Harry had to swallow his pride, feeling gratitude and relief. So there was a point to his suffering. “ _Are they are safe then...? Please tell me?_ ”

“ _They are safe. If they dare fight against the empire, then it is their loss. I simply cannot promise to spare the life of someone foolish enough to challenge me.”_

“ _Can you show me proof?”_

Voldemort grabbed a fistful of his hair and leaned close, close enough that Harry could feel his breath wafting against his face.

“ _How greedy can you be? You ask for too much. Is my word not enough? Do you not understand your place? You are a prisoner. You are merely the container of my soul. You should seek to please me, respect me, and acknowledge me as your master. I am the very reason you exist.”_

Harry felt like a damn was waiting to burst.

Voldemort moved away, releasing his head, as if disinterested, as if none of the anger that he expressed had ever happened.

“ _You cannot even admit that you crave my presence, because you cling to your dignity and pride. I should leave you to rot in this prison.”_

_Harry felt the tears then._

_“no… Don't! Please don't.”_

_Voldemort smiled, the face of a satisfied predator playing with his prey._

_“No? Then what is it, dear Harry? What is it that you want?”_

_“I… I don’t…”_

_“Tell me. Tell me the truth, my horcrux.”_

_“I don’t want you to leave…me.”_

Harry bit his tongue at the open admission, and he could feel his breath coming in and out, just like harsh little gasps. He could feel his heart beating too fast. His thoughts were of denial, and the horrible thought that if he could not convince Voldemort to stay, then he would be condemning himself to an eternity of isolation and despair.

_“Oh? So you believe you are worthy of Lord Voldemort’s presence? I have an empire to rule and the rest of the world to conquer. Tell me, why should I waste my time with you?”_

_“I’m… I have… your soul and you can’t abandon… me… It’s so lonely. I can’t-”_ there was a disgusting hiccup and he tried to force he words out but there was a lump in his throat. He could not go back to the days of endless boredom when he’s experienced a touch of human companionship even if it was with him.

“Wrong.”

Harry had not heard English in so long that it was jarring to his ears. It took him awhile to understand what it meant, not with the panic that he was in. Voldemort pressed against him, and Harry gasped at the movement.

 _“I have never truly cared for my horcruxes. They are there for the mere purpose of keeping my soul grounded. I have hidden them in places I knew were safe. You are just one of them... But you destroyed them, and you will never be forgiven for that. Do you think I would be swayed by the mere presence of my soul inside of you? You do not truly think I will grant you favors when you have done me so many wrongs. You have to offer me, something more than that._ ”

Harry could not think. He had nothing to offer. He was but a prisoner. What else does he have that was worth the Dark Lord’s time?

He could not bear the thought of being alone again, and at the back of his mind, he could feel danger. That perhaps a life of solitude was better than tempting the devil.

“ _Then… please tell me what you want… just don’t leave me… I just don’t want to be alone again.”_

And by then, Harry couldn’t control the tears.

Voldemort leaned down, and kissed him.

It didn’t take long to realize what Voldemort wanted. Harry thought in his head that he was one sick monster when he could just have his way and leave him blessedly ignorant – the man wanted his consent.

Harry should have felt disgust but he was filled with relief and something foreign, something hungry – an echo of a feeling that was not his. It was an almost feverish desire to consume himself.

“ _Give me your body. Let me in. Let me have a taste. That much, you can do for me, won't you Harry?_ ”

“ _No. I can't... not you... please don't...”_

_“Very well then. Goodbye, Harry.”_

And then there was darkness.

* * *

He was hungry.

He was extremely hungry.

His stomach was growling at him for food.

It was the reason his eyes opened, and the sight that greeted him made him want to puke.

There was a bird with white feathers, there was dried blood.

Hedwig.

'NO... No. No.'

He felt the heavy loss of a severed familiar bond. And he started crying.

 _“You killed her… you killed… Oh god… Hedwig… my baby girl…I’m sorry… I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you…_ _”_

That was when he felt horror, when he saw a floating paper plane that began to unravel.

It floated before him, before the bird. One word. Saying.

_EAT.  
_

* * *

He continued staring at her, staring at her dead body until he starved and lay on the floor – not able to do anything. The smell was nauseating. He could not ever think of her as food but the message was clear.

He could have been staring at her for hours or days, unable to process how his most precious pet was dead because of him.

He was fixated on the way her eyes were slowly caving in.

He let himself starve.

_“I’m sorry… please don’t make me eat her… please don’t make me… please don’t.”_

Harry rocked himself and cried.

* * *

 

Later, he experienced the need to relieve himself. He forced himself to stand, and began pissing away from his dead familiar. He could not wipe himself because his wand was missing. Shitting was a disgusting affair.

It was watery and barely even there.

Afterwards, he lay in the middle of the cage. He watched.

There was a glass of water.

He crawled towards it, sniffing.

It smelled funny… it smelled vaguely like. Musk. Like. What his hands smelled when he touched himself.

Harry through away the glass, and watched it shatter.

It shattered.

And instantly, Harry found himself itching for the shards.

But he stopped himself. Being suicidal got him into this mess several times. He was already aware of that. What could slitting his wrists do when the Dark Lord can just heal him? Voldemort would just get mad at him more.

* * *

 

He didn’t know when it happened, but he found his hand reaching out for the piece of meat as if it was the tastiest thing ever.

He began chewing, too numb to care.

His wrists were getting thinner and his stomach seemed to have caved.

Moments later, he was retching, too horrified of what he’d done.

And yet the note was still there.

It wouldn’t disappear.

The glass shards remained a temptation on the floor.

A new glass was waiting in the corner. It was an off color. A yellow, pink. He didn’t know what it was, whatever it was. He carefully went towards it, and drank.

It did not take long for him to understand that nothing would happen unless he ate it.

He had to eat the uncooked rotting dead body just so he could satisfy the monster.

* * *

 

When there were only feathers left, there was clapping.

Harry felt so tiny, and horrid.

“Such a good boy. Let’s have you cleaned up.”

Harry had no energy to run when the cage opened up. It groaned, opening itself to welcome the monster.

“Aguamenti.”

A jet of pure water erupted from the tip of Voldemort’s wand. It rinsed the filth off of him, and the feathers scattered all around the floor. Voldemort vanished them as an afterthought. Harry felt another charm upon him, which made his skin feel as if it got scrubbed too harshly.

He was clean again. He still felt so dirty.

He was clean again and Voldemort was back.

“ _Please… please… make it stop…_ ”

Voldemort tilted his head, and reached out for him.

“ _Have you learned your lesson?_ ”

Harry nodded, eyes hurting from the tears.

He felt as if his eyes were a water faucet lately. He couldn’t understand why. It felt like he couldn’t stop the tears.

“ _Good… then we shall eat once more, you and I.”_

Harry pushed himself away, and he found himself pressing his back against the bars, hiding his face. Voldemort sighed.

“ _It’s nothing to be afraid of. You’ve been a good boy, doing what you’re told. I wanted to reward that. I’ve brought you treacle tart. It’s your favorite, is it not?_ ”

Harry was startled when he heard a pop.

“Master, Minsey be at your service.”

The house elf who called himself as Minsey, was carrying two plates of treacle tart. Before them, there was a chair, an ornate throne, and Voldemort took a seat.

Harry’s mouth watered at the dish, and when Voldemort motioned with his hands, Harry came over.

He ate from the palm of Voldemort’s hand, and wherever the syrup spilled, he obediently licked the fingers, the hands.

“ _Perhaps, now you’ll let me have you? Then I promise you will never be alone… ever again.”_

Harry considered the question.

* * *

 “ _I just… don’t want it to hurt.”_

“ _It will… I have forgotten how innocent you are.”_

Voldemort pressed his fingers against the child’s tongue, while the other slithered behind the boy’s neck, grasping the boy’s matted hair. The boy hardly looked like himself, gone was his lithe athletic body. The sun kissed skin has gone pale, having been away from the sun. The green eyes that have sparked with defiance now had fear in them. Fear was a good motivator.

But he liked to see the boy break even more.

It was not enough that he was suffering, that his dreams and reality was one big nightmare. It was not enough that he could no longer stand without trembling. It did not matter if his bones were jutting out in places where it shouldn’t. He had to take everything from him, because nothing else would soothe the ire that had formed in him from long ago.

And he would enjoy it thoroughly. Enjoy his humiliation, his cries of despair – the knowledge that he held his insignificant life in his hands and there was no other way for him except to take it… take the pain, take the torture, and live through it…

Because he would never die. He already ensured that, possessed the boy so the boy could kill and sever a portion of himself, not that the boy could remember after being repeatedly obliviated. It didn’t suit him to have him break so early on.

“Come, let us put that mouth to good use. Suck me.”

The boy struggled, but soon, there were unsure hands, opening his robes. There were chapped lips, pressing against him. Eyes, looking elsewhere, then looking at him for help.

“Lick.”

The boy understood the command and began licking tentatively.

“Good boy. Let’s fix that arm of yours, you’ll need it.”

With a mere wave of his wand, the boy’s broken arm had been repaired. There was a look of gratitude on Harry Potter’s face.

* * *

 

A hand pushed his legs apart, and something long and spindly which could only mean the Dark Lord’s fingers – was prodding insistently at his hole. Harry struggled at the invisible bond that held his wrist in place and the embarrassing noises his lips were making.

“ _To think, you’re still a virgin, and I would be the one to have it.”_

There was no time to adjust as two fingers became three, and Harry could feel pain. It hurt, and the Dark Lord’s nails felt sharp, scratching the insides and tearing. The tips of his toes were curling from pain, and he desperately wanted to close his legs.

“ _I will take all that you can give. You will not deny me this because you need me, Harry and Lord Voldemort will ruin you.”_

Then, something felt different. It was if there was something inside him that the fingers kept pressing against that made him see stars, and all he could think of was that spot in his body that the Dark Lord kept on caressing. Harry gasped. He could only hiss in wonder, his breath hitching, and red rising to his cheeks. “ _what…. Why?”_

_“You will come to crave this”_

Then, Voldemort touched Harry’s neglected cock. Hands wrapped around him, until Harry was all but hard and leaking. He could not understand how it all happened too fast when all he wanted was never to be left alone. It felt like it was too much. He didn’t want to feel good.

He just wanted Voldemort to use him however he pleased but why was his body betraying him?

He could feel the sweat building up making the stray locks of hair stick on his forehead. The _disgusting_ fingers kept pushing in and out of him, his body unused to the touch of another. It was too much, “ _take… take it out…_ ”

“ _So tight. Your blood makes will make this so much easier.”_ The serpentine face was watching him with amusement. Voldemort pulled out the fingers and Harry blearily noticed that it was disturbingly red.

“ _Just give in, Harry.”_

Harry could offer no word of protest, and then, he felt something much larger, pushing against him. “ _No… no no…”_

It felt too large, but the blood eased it in, and Harry was screaming soundlessly.

Voldemort wrapped his fingers around his throat and squeezed, cutting off the air, “ _So tight.”_

Fucking him.

It was something that wasn’t supposed to be there. Every time it pushed in, Harry felt he was ripping in two.

He couldn’t think.

He couldn’t breathe.

He could see spots in his vision, but when it kept hitting _that spot_ … it felt so _good_. As pleasure that was not his echoed across the bond that they shared.

Then, he was suddenly coughing as he took in deep a lungful of air he was deprived of. Voldemort pushed inside, hard, and a tongue entered his mouth and Harry felt as if he was being consumed alive. The man was plowing at him relentlessly, and Harry was all too weak to even stop him.

“ _Mine._ ”

Harry didn’t want it. He didn’t want to belong to Voldemort in any way, form or manner, but the way his body reacted to his touch was as if he was made for him.

He was arching to him, and pressing back, albeit unconsciously, but he was. And the little gasps of pleasure should not be from him… _but it was_.

He had no choice, he told himself, but why did it feel so _good_?

Voldemort stirred up his insides, and some primal part of him knew this was what it felt like to be _complete_.

“ _Tell me you’re mine. Say it, Harry.”_

“ _Yours.”_

* * *

 

_His._

Claimed in more ways than one.

Harry lay on the cushioned floor, legs aching, with bruises and marks around his body, his bum a mess of red and white yellow fluids. The Dark Lord left, after having had his fill.

The cage was around him again, the ring of red on the floor was slowly wiped clean by the same magic that kept the garden pristine. His efforts of trying to tell how long he’d been captive _wasted_.

Voldemort told him he hardly needed a blanket when he was just a whore. That he would spread his legs for attention and that even he, the murderer of his family could do it.

* * *

His garden was not his any longer.

It did not take the Dark Lord long enough to fulfill his promise. Instead of visiting him as Harry expected he would, He let his followers in.

Harry could feel shame as he could not hide his nudity, could not even defend himself from the sudden cacophony of ridicule.

Voldemort rarely visited, and his visits were violent affairs of sex. If it was not him, it was some other crowd of his most trusted. He said coldly that they would also soothe his loneliness.

They attempted to draw him to conversations, but he could only hiss back. They laughed, and cooed at his inability to talk.

Familiar faces, who all but jeered, pointed and laughed. There was pity, scorn, revulsion, reactions and emotions he did not wish to see directed at him. Harry closed his eyes and tried to curl up in the middle of his cage as much as he could, so they could not reach him through the bars.

An animal would have been treated better.

They were told not to harm him, and not to fuck him. Everything else was allowed.

Once, water was splashed over him, and he shivered until he was dried off. One other time, he was forced to lay still as slimy worms all but crawled around him. Cockroaches, animals, disgusting stuff. He was forced to halucinate, fed things he did not know the contents of,  _as long as it did not harm him_. They tried to discover what he was afraid of, so they could use it against him. He watched as his misery caused them great relief. Sometimes they gave him nightmares, fed his paranoia, and laugter followed as he tried to crawl away from invisible monsters.

They cajoled each other to do something worse, pushing and prodding at the limits of what was allowed and what was not. It was a competition.

* * *

" _Master... I only need you... Why... why do you let other people see me?"  
_

_"Are you embarassed, my pet? Do you not like the company I brought you? Is this not better than being alone?"_

" _Please don't let them hurt me... Please..."_

_"Their orders are not to harm you. Not to fuck you, that novelty is mine alone."  
_

_"Master–"_

_"_ Enough. _"_

 

* * *

 

They thought he was less than human, because that was what they were led to believe. It was a merry pool of young recruits, who did the worst, whose minds were corrupted in the belief of how superior they were in terms of blood.

He was just a helpless victim.

He wished he could stop them. He hoped someone would protect himself, begged the Dark Lord even.

" _But you wanted this, Harry._ "

No he didn't. He just didn't want to be alone.

When they watched him defacate, like he was some _entertaining_ animal, and later force fed him his own shit, Harry begged for days for it to stop but Voldemort hardly cared. He was only upset that Harry had severe stomach pain after but all his death eaters got was a word of warning.

Unable to do magic, he was nothing more than a muggle, and muggles were vermin in their eyes.

They made it a sport, as to who could be more creative in using a spell that would not harm him.

_Imperio._

If it was not harmful, they were allowed to use all manners of curses.

He used to be able to fight it. He had no idea what changed.

Harry could only sit at the back of his mind as he was forced to masturbate in front of his audience. This happened, not one but too many times. They forced him to put fingers and sometimes even four in his ‘ _pretty pink cunt_ ’ and they would not stop until he came.

He was told to come closer towards the edge of the bars so they can touch him, kiss him, make him suck. Fuck him with their own fingers, tie him up from one end, so he couldn’t get away. Leave harmless marks on his body. Praise him for being such a good boy.

At times they would just keep him open, and gaping, wanting, and almost begging for relief.

It was not always sexual but it was what most of them made him do.

It was as if inside his little garden, all his visitors lose their sense of decency. Like they have all turned into devils who could not even offer him a shred of pity.

He was the ever popular play thing.

How much more could he take?

* * *

There was one death eater who was a little too enamored with him. Who watched him a little bit too long. Thought that his body was in ways, god’s gift to men. He whispered of how he longed to stare at his eyes, his pretty green eyes.

He wanted to worship him.

Harry took notice, because out of all the others, it seemed as if this one cared.

_Cared a little too much he was willing to overstep certain boundaries._

It was already a learned behavior. To press his chest against the floor, and bend his knees a little, then have his ass up in the air.

“You want me to fuck you? But… I shouldn’t. The Dark Lord said never to touch you… but you are so beautiful…”

Harry hissed in parseltongue, words the man would never understand but parseltongue aroused them. It was the beautiful language of the snakes.

“ _Oh, but you should. I would love to see what happens next._ ”

Harry gyrated his hips against the metal bar, so it was all but sliding up and down and a flashed the man a hint of a sultry smile. He could see him gulping, sweating and pressing against the bar fingers reaching out. “Hahh”

The man's fingers caressed his ass, caressing it, squeezed it hard it turned pink.

" _Please."_

Harry exhaled, as a slicked finger pressed in, curling around, trying to reach the spot almost everyone knew by now. He hissed meaningless words as he pleaded in his mind for _‘more_ ’, utterly uncaring that it was the first time he was being honest to himself that he wanted it, needed it.

It always brought him horrible shame, that other people were allowed to touch him when he hardly knew them but he’d already grown used to it. He spread his legs further and began to touch himself with his hand, tossing his head back, and pushing against the fingers that fucked him well.

And it was because he was actively taking pleasure out of this when he shouldn’t be that _he felt the monstrosity of his magic._ Voldemort was watching him like some perverted voyeur... ' _Watch me.'_

The Dark Lord was probably pleased to see how far he’d fallen. Harry only felt the knowledge excite him more.

Harry could not begin to care when this nameless death eater asked him to stand up, and come closer. And so he did. He pressed his back against the metal cage, and waited until the man wrapped his fingers around his cock began stroking him in the rhythm that the fingers in his arse fucked him. The fingers curled against that pretty spot and Harry couldn’t breathe.

“Don't cum so soon, pretty. You have to wait for me...”

There was a cruel squeeze at the base of his cock and Harry hissed, trying to move away because it hurt.

“So pretty… I want to fuck you… merlin... I want to be inside you."

Harry flashed him pretty doe eyes, fluttering his lashes and nodding slowly. Mouthing english words, "Fuck Me"

"So cruel... There’s no harm right…? If this much is allowed, why not have my cock too? I bet you’d be so tight.”

Harry could feel the orgasm building up.

The man pumped him roughly, his hands too tight, but it felt so good, Harry felt his mouth open, hissing “ _Harder… harder…”_

Soon, the man was shuffling out of his robes. This nameless stranger was pressing his cock into him, and it was a burn, getting it inside of him.

His back kept hitting the metal frame, as he pressed his arse against the open space, trying to get more of the delicious cock - in.

“ _Hah… hah… hnnng”_

It was so wrong.

It was so horribly delightfully wrong.

“ _Fuck me more.”_

Now he knew they were never wrong, calling him a whore.

He could hear silent footsteps. The steady trickle of danger, as the presence in his mind grew stronger. Harry felt something in him constrict at the feeling, of want, desire and this hot burning pleasure as the death eater continued to fuck him. The man was all but groaning, and Harry couldn’t stop it when he came. It was a blissful relief of pearly white cum that fell inches away from his feet.

It was followed by a wet splatter on his back, as the man was cleaved in two.

 

 

“ _You’re back. I missed you.”_

The Dark Lord merely pointed his wand at him, "Crucio."

* * *

Harry tried to make sense of the sudden circle of heads that surrounded his cage. They were like gifts that sat bleeding around his cage.

It was the decapitated heads of every death eater who desired him.

Harry reached out to their faces, feeling sorrow, and twisted glee. He reached for one with pretty blonde hair, someone whose face he found sweet, and swung it round and round… dancing in a tune that only he could hear.

* * *

His visitors have stopped coming, and once again, he was isolated.

It was jarring to Harry’s already disturbed mind.

It was one thing to become a play thing, and another to be alone.

It was unfair.

He lay crying after he realized that his company of severed heads were all that he had for days on end.

Perhaps because he wouldn’t stop crying that the Dark Lord visited.

“ _you… you promised not to leave me… you promised… you promised.”_

Harry stod up and plasted his naked body against the Dark Lord.

“ _You made them play with me… and just when… just when it felt… okay… you had to take them away from me.”_

Harry couldn’t stop the words, as if some part of him just wanted to spill all his thoughts so he could be rid of them.

“ _…what else do I have to do? Why… why do you hurt me so much? Do you think I wanted to become your enemy? Do you think I wanted to be your equal? I was just a baby. I didnt want that? Please… master. Just. Kill. Me. I don’t care about my friends any more. I don’t care about your stupid war… these stupid games you play… Just let me be. Please._ ”

Voldemort wrapped his arms around him.

“ _You know I can never let you go. You are my horcrux. It does not matter to me if it is fair. You see, you exist for my own enjoyment. I want to break you in every manner possible. I will never forgive you for what you’ve done. There is no escape.”_

Harry pushed himself away then.

He tried to run away, but Voldemort merely froze him in place, had him spread eagled in mid air.

“I have neglected you, it would seem, and you’ve grown complacent once more. Perhaps, I should teach you a lesson that you should never forget. It should be clear now, who I am to you. I am your master, and you… a slave to my desires. Whatever they may be."

The Dark Lord seemed to be vibrating with anger. Harry couldn't understand what he did wrong. What did he do wrong? Wasnt he good?

"I have been told, your resistance to pain is high. Let us hope for your sake it is high enough. I have summoned a team of healers should you be close enough to die... They are one of the best, so I do not fear for your life. “

“ _Please don't… please… no more… no more. I'm scared... dont hurt me. Have mercy... master... please...”_

There healers entered side by side. They wore white, and from what Harry could see on their faces, they vaguely looked uncomfortable.

“My Lord, we thank you for this opportunity. I speak in behalf of our class that we are truly honoured.”

“Let uss begin.” Voldemort’s voice was of a high note.

"First, the nail removal curse. It is a simple curse that mimics a torture method used by muggles.”

Voldemort brandished his wand. He began with a downward upward flic. With quick precision, he began removing the fingernails off of Harry’s useless hand, and to that Harry felt only horror because he could see them bleeding. It was painful but it was nothing compared to when Voldemort held his other hand.

Then he was hissing expletives in his head.

 _“Stay quiet, or I would rip your tongue out, boy._ ”

Harry tried to close his mouth but he could not help himself. The Dark Lord turned to the three, and began explaining, uncaring at the body twisting in pain behind him.

“There is a way to regrow nails with potions, the same way we regrow hair, so this is not entirely damaging. It is known to be painful especially to those who haven’t experienced it. Sometimes, muggles use barbaric methods like putting sticks under the finger nails, to prolong the process of removing the nail.” Voldemort conjured a wooden stick and forcefully stabbed it underneath one remaining nail. He demonstrated it to his followers, and Harry could only heave, as they took out notebooks to scribble notes. Harry was a mere specimen.

The Dark Lord began to stab the stick repeatedly, until the bloody nail came off.

“The bone breaking curse. Conteram ossa. _”_

Harry felt the bones in his fingers begin to shatter one by one. At this point, his pain was already evident, in the way he was twitching in air. The Dark Lord cast it with glee.

“My Lord, the prisoner has fainted.”

“Heal him a little, and let us continue once he regains his consciousness.”

Harry could feel the effects of the potion that was forcefully being poured down his throat. His muscles and most of his body was intact, but waking up was just one ball of pain that wouldn’t stop. At this point, he knew he'd been silenced as none of his pleads were heard.

“It is a fairly easy spell to cast but since it involves immense concentration as to which part of the bone you would like to break, it is rarely used for anything other than torture.”

At this point, the healers were already asking questions while one tended to him to ensure he would not break so early.

“There is an interesting way to use the flagrante curse. We usually use this curse on objects to prevent thieves from touching it, or as traps. Another way to use it, is to cast it on a living body. It takes a greater deal of power, but it is interestingly effective. Watch.”

“Flagrante.”

There was a burning smell, as the skin on Harry’s chest began to burn.

As curse and the counter was demonstrated again, and again, Harry's body became a mess of black and red, and skin slowly filling up with water. The healers fixed him up, trying to repair what they can, but there was no relief to the pain.

“This is a spell, you must all know. Defodio.”

Harry felt a part of his arm fall off. A chunk of flesh,

Harry had his mouth open, and tears were streaming out of his eyes. He was trembling.

The Dark Lord turn to them. “Fix him.”

“Vulnera Sanentur.”

"Vulnera Sanentur."

The blood was being siphoned back to him.

They opened a bottle of what could be dittany, and used a charm to wrap bandages around his arm. “Ferula.”

“All better now.”

Harry wanted to snarl at them but as it was, they couldn't hear him, couldn't understand him even if he could, and he couldn’t move.

“There are many other lesser known dark curses. There is one that turns blood into acid, and it usually kills the target in a matter of minutes. I trust you are prepared.”

“My Lord, whenever you are ready.”

The Dark Lord began swishing his wand in a complex manner, before saying “Acidum Sanguinem”

Harry’s eyes rolled back to his head, as his skin began to boil from the inside, and something decidedly green began leaking out the pores of his skin.

It should have been easy enough to heal, had it not been for the dittany that was already in his body.

There was something wrong that none of the three could fix.

Harry could only watch as the Dark Lord began summoning more and more people. They surrounded him, shouting spells, forcing potions down his throat. He was in so much pain. They lowered him on the floor, and he was barely breathing as the world spun in colors.

So much noise. Anger. Fear that wasn't his.

White.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm mostly done revising this chapter :D. I changed a couple of things but it's mostly the same. The second chapter will be up probably this weekend, maybe twice the length because I wanted to change the ending and how the entire chapter flowed.
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts. I really do appreciate it when people leave me comments or constructive criticisms~


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